


the wide white stairs

by Byacolate



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Fix-It, Fix-It, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Missing Scene, Trespasser DLC, Trespasser Spoilers, eating unfortunate bioware canon oversights for breakfast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/Byacolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are yet things to be said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the wide white stairs

**Author's Note:**

> I played Trespasser through with Inquisitors that romanced Bull, Cullen, and Dorian respectively, and the fact that Dorian's is the only Cassandra-proposal-conversation of the three you can't follow up on is a farce. So I've fixed it.

 

“Marry me.”

 

Dorian laughs once, a single bright note, until he looks into Adaar‘s face and remembers exactly who he is.

 

“I beg your pardon,” is all he can say, fingers trailing over his lips. His smile is so broad that they must be able to see it from Ferelden. He has to tease; it is in his very nature. “Right here? Right now?”

 

“Anywhere,” Adaar insists, nudging the chessboard aside to seat himself on the table, his knees bracketing Dorian‘s. “Anytime.”

 

The swollen sensation of trapped laughter presses against Dorian‘s sternum. Adaar means it, he truly does, and Dorian feels affection crest over him like a wave. It could be the wine, but Dorian knows better.

 

“What brought this on?” he asks, nudging Adaar‘s inner thigh with his knee. “Has Varric been putting ideas into your head? You must know we‘re little more than material for his novels.”

 

“No,” Adaar says, and then frowns. “Maybe. Indirectly. He told Cassandra I was proposing to you.”

 

The glee bubbled up in Dorian‘s chest bursts, and he leans back under the force of all his laughter. He dabs at the corner of his eye with a thumb to keep his kohl from smudging. “Did she congratulate us?” he asks, fanning his fingers over his lips. “Wish us a long, full life of domestic bliss?”

 

“She was happy to think that you and I might...” He pauses, thoughtful, keen eyes on Dorian‘s hands for all the time it takes to gather them in his. Dorian can‘t protest such a small, sincere display - not after pulling the Inquisitor to himself for a very heartfelt, very public kiss before Orlais, the Maker, and all of sundry - and he doesn‘t want to. He‘s missed this far too much to waste even a second of Adaar‘s touch. “I‘ve thought about it,” he says, thumbs tracing Dorian‘s knuckles. A smile lifts the corner of his mouth. “Often. It‘s different to hear someone else put words to it, though. It's almost like... now that it isn‘t contained to my thoughts alone, perhaps it could _be_.”

 

“Well,” Dorian says, all the laughter gone from his tone, “I suppose there might be certain advantages to being chummy with the Divine. If two were to pursue a union such as ours.”

 

Hope lights in Adaar‘s eyes, ever fetching, endlessly dear, and Dorian... Dorian sits forward.

 

“It wouldn‘t be legitimate, you know. Not everywhere,” he warns, brow furrowed. “And certainly not in Tevinter.”

 

“Does that matter?” Adaar asks, not incredulous, but merely curious. Dorian breathes out a laugh.

 

“I‘ve been rubbing off on you, Amatus. No, I suppose it doesn‘t. Not to me." Adaar has given him his honesty, and this... despite the amusement still lurking in the back of his mind, Dorian knows that this is serious. He deserves Dorian's honesty in return. "What does it mean, then? What does it matter at all? Don‘t misunderstand: I don‘t mean to discourage your romanticism. I suppose I just never considered it would be something I was ever to have, beyond the arrangement my parents intended for me. I‘ve never even considered it in the hypothetical. It wasn‘t feasible enough to covet; I wouldn‘t have ever thought to want it.”

 

“Do you think you might?” Adaar asks, bowing his head to press Dorian‘s bare knuckles to his lips. Not to persuade, but to placate. Dorian's eyes and his voice go soft.

 

“How am I to know?”

 

Adaar smiles faintly. “You could try saying the word,” he says, and Dorian startles to realize he _has_ been avoiding it. The power of words, and bringing them to life. The weight of a spoken word. What Adaar had said of Cassandra bringing light and substance to a hidden thought rings true.

 

“Marriage,” he says, perfectly compliant. It‘s quiet, but Adaar‘s hands squeeze around his, and it isn‘t so much a vice as an anchor. Nothing and everything is subject to change. “With you.”

 

“Ideally,” Adaar says. It‘s his turn to laugh, though he doesn‘t indulge quite so heartily as Dorian.

 

“You know you needn‘t bind me in matrimony for us to remain as we are,” he says, and a pulse of warm magic flows through his hands to Adaar‘s. “I am yours, always, no matter how far from one another duty may lead.”

 

A pained look crosses Adaar‘s face at the reminder of what's to come.

 

“That isn‘t why I want this,” he says plainly, and Dorian knows he can believe him. He shifts closer, drawing his hands up to Adaar‘s wrists.

 

“I can‘t say the thought of taking you from the market isn‘t an excellent motivator,” Dorian admits, finding Adaar‘s pulse. “Whatever factions are champing at the bit to get in bed with the Inquisition by getting in bed with the Inquisitor will be scandalized, along with every Chantry Mother and Magister south of Par Vollen.” He smiles, all teeth. “Oh yes, I think we should.”

  
"I - truly?"

 

The raw joy cracking crackling in the magic between them brings Dorian's laughter back from the moment. "Truly," he says, as warmly as he feels, small and private only to shout when Adaar tugs him forward into his great arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> Inquire about fic requests [here!](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/ask)  
> Title from Joanna Newsom's "Sawdust and Diamonds": _From the top of the flight of the wide white stairs, through the rest of my life, do you wait for me there?_
> 
>  
> 
> If you are so inclined, feel free to follow [my Tumblr](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/).


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